


moment of truce

by takingoffmyshoes



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Other, but the dynamic between these two is so goddamn weird, hence the 'other' relationship category, it doesn't happen but yeah, rated t for potential creepy shit, this is gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 19:22:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19383160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takingoffmyshoes/pseuds/takingoffmyshoes
Summary: a chance meeting goes way less badly than it could have





	moment of truce

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

In hindsight, this had not been his best plan. Lone scouting mission, unexplored territory, gathering storm… add in the fact that he was _way_ too close to the hunter routes, and yeah, clearly not his brightest moment. But he’d been going stir crazy on the Edge, waiting for something to happen but never knowing what, losing himself in plans and back-up plans and back-up plans _for_ the back-up plans, and trying to keep the restlessness in his mind from unleashing itself against people (and dragons) who didn’t deserve it. Eventually, though, it had gotten to be too much, and he’d made the executive decision to take himself out of the situation before someone clobbered him for being a crabby, pessimistic, micromanaging dictator. 

All in all, that was probably the right call, but the way he chose to do it was, well. ‘Reckless and brainless’ was probably an understatement. Probably maybe a very, very big understatement.

“Steady!” he calls to Toothless, trying desperately to make himself heard over the roar of the wind and the deafening hiss of torrential rain meeting the choppy surface of the sea. Toothless growls back – he feels it through the saddle more than hears it in the air – and he’s doing the best he can but the wind is relentless and it’s been tearing at them for an hour already and they’re both exhausted and freezing and ohhhh why is he such an idiot?

Toothless drops several feet as the wind beneath them suddenly changes direction, but they’re picked up by another gust and tossed to the side before he can really register it. Normally, they’d try to get above the worst of the storm, but the clouds are thick and heavy and crackling with lightning, and trying to fly through that with all the metal on the rig is just too dangerous. 

They need land. Shelter would be ideal, given the rain and the freezingness and all, but simple, solid ground would be almost as much of a relief. Too bad they seem to be lost over the _middle of the fricking ocean._ A shriek of lightning, a colossal clap of thunder that seems to shake the very world, and Toothless jerks again, banking hard to try to keep some semblance of balance, and that’s the last he remembers.

ー・ー

He wakes up, and that in and of itself is a surprise, but what’s more surprising is that he’s out of the wind and rain and lying on something soft. Something that is definitely _not_ the back of his dragon.

_Shit, Toothless!_

He tries to sit up, but doesn’t get very far before a hand lands on his shoulder and presses him back down. “Easy, Hiccup,” says a voice that is way too close and way too familiar, and his stomach drops sharply. _Viggo._ Oh, no. 

He slaps at the hand, but misses. It’s only then that he realizes he’s shaking, badly, his head is pounding, and that it’s very dark. 

“W– Where—” he gets out, trying to push himself up again, but his voice and his arms give out at exactly the same time, and he falls back against the furs. Wait, furs?

“He’s here,” Viggo says, still out of sight. In the darkness, he could be a foot away and Hiccup wouldn’t know, but his voice is farther away than that, and rebounds oddly. “He’s exhausted but uninjured, as far as I can tell. Same as you. Just rest, Hiccup. Just rest.”

Everything in him protests the idea of sleeping while he and his dragon are alone, helpless and trapped, with his greatest and most dangerous adversary, but he’s bone-tired, more exhausted than he can ever remember being, and so he does.

ー・ー

The next time he wakes, there’s a fire, and he’s cocooned in a pile of luxuriously soft furs. The warmth is heavenly, and the light is low enough not to worsen his headache, but enough to see that he’s in a cave, and on the other side of the fire is…

“Viggo.” His voice is hoarse and feels like glass being dragged out of his throat, but he’s not shaking as hard anymore, and instead of terror he just feels tired.

“Hiccup,” Viggo returns, just as evenly. “Finally awake?”

“Apparently. What’s going on?”

“Nothing nefarious, I assure you.”

Hiccup snorts. “Try again.”

“Truly,” Viggo says seriously. “This is no more than a coincidence, as unlikely as it seems. I had set out to map this cluster of islands, and was taken unawares by the storm.”

“You’ll forgive me if I find that hard to believe. Where’s your fleet? And where’s my dragon?”

“Your dragon is behind you, still sleeping, and as for my fleet…” Viggo spreads his hands and gives a small shrug. “I’m sure I don’t need to explain to you the occasional need for solitude.”

Hiccup rolls over as he’s speaking, which turns out to be a really monumental effort, and there, indeed, is Toothless, curled up against the wall of the cave a few feet away, breathing evenly. The saddle’s been taken off, but the rig is still in place. He turns back to Viggo, another tremendous feat, and asks, “You didn’t give him anything?”

“You mean poison, or a drug, or anything else that would likewise incapacitate him?” Viggo chuckles. The sound makes his skin crawl. “No, I didn’t. I don’t habitually carry those sorts of things on my person, you know.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.” He shivers, a hard, rolling shudder that passes through him head to toe, and it shakes loose a short, barking cough. Okay, that hurts.

Across the fire, Viggo moves as if to stand, and Hiccup throws out a hand. “No, just— just stay over there,” he manages, getting control of his breathing. “Stay away from me.”

Viggo lifts his hands in a placating gesture and settles himself back down. “I have no intention of harming you,” he says, and something in his voice is oddly...gentle? Is that it? Whatever it is, Hiccup doesn’t care for it at all.

“Oh really? Since when?” He goes to pull his arm back under the furs, and abruptly realizes what’s odd about it. “And where in the _Hel_ are my clothes?” 

“Drying,” Viggo says. “They should be close to done by now, but I wouldn’t recommend—”

“You _undressed_ me?” Hiccup bursts out, snatching at the edge of the blanket covering him and pulling it up to his chin. He doesn’t know what other explanation there could be, but just saying the words makes it real, makes it disturbing. 

“You would have frozen if I hadn’t,” Viggo snaps. “You would have _died.”_

“Isn’t that what you want?” 

“No. Hiccup, please understand—”

“Oh, I understand just fine,” Hiccup says. “I know _exactly_ what you want from me, and that’s why I want you to _stay over there.”_

Viggo goes still. “My dear, do you really think I would—”

 _“Don’t_ call me that. Just. Just _stop,_ okay?” He shimmies an arm out from under his wraps, trying to keep as much skin covered as possible. The texture of the furs now feels invasive rather than luxurious, and he shivers in a way that has nothing to do with the cold still settled in his core. “Give me my clothes, then turn around and face the wall.”

“They’re not dry yet.”

“I don’t care.”

“You should. I know this is unsettling for you, but please, believe me when I say that I do not intend to harm you in any way. I _care_ f—”

“Nope, no, not making this any better,” Hiccup interrupts, and can’t stop another shiver. That one might have had _something_ to do with the cold, though it was still mostly disgust. The skin of his arm is prickling up with the cool dampness of the air, and as little as he relishes the idea of exposing any more of himself to it, let alone going back out into the storm, he likes the thought of staying here, unclothed, with _Viggo,_ even less. 

Viggo stands slowly, and moves carefully around the fire a few steps before bending to pick something – a few somethings – up from the ground. He keeps his eyes on Hiccup’s the entire time, telegraphing each intent, like he’s moving around a dangerous wild animal and trying not to spook it. A few more steps bring him within arms’ reach, and he passes the bundle of fabric over into Hiccup’s outstretched hand, then retreats back to his earlier position, hands open and lifted away from him.

“Turn around,” Hiccup says firmly, determined to ignore the clamminess of his clothing.

“And then what?” Viggo asks. “Are you going to wake your exhausted dragon and fly back out into the storm? Are you going to trust that the two of you can make it to your base before you freeze or fall again? Hiccup, _please,_ see reason. Wait until the storm passes. This is no way for a man like you to die.”

 _A man like you._ “You know I’m _nineteen,_ right?” Hiccup snaps, shoving his hands through the sleeves of his tunic and ew, gross, _cold cold cold cold cold,_ but better than staying here with _that._ “Now for the last time, _turn. around.”_

He actually does, somewhat to Hiccup’s surprise, but that doesn’t stop him from muttering a stream of invectives against him as he struggles upright and tugs the tunic over his head. It clings horribly to his skin, just wet enough still to suck what meager warmth he’d gathered right back out of him, and his short gasp at the sensation turns into another coughing fit. _Gods,_ it hurts, and he’s shaking again, and his head’s pounding and he’s _cold_ – and somehow he doesn’t notice Viggo’s approach until there’s a hand on his back and a cup pressing against his lips.

“It’s just water,” Viggo murmurs, and in spite of everything he can’t find it in himself to resist. It _is_ water, cold and clean, and he sips at it until the monster in his chest subsides. 

“Were we in the water?” he asks once he has the breath to. “Me and Toothless – did you pull us out of the water?”

“Yes,” Viggo says, still quiet, still close. Hiccup does his best not to flinch. “I realized my ship would likely not be able to weather the storm for much longer, so began to make my way towards this island; I wouldn’t have spotted you, but the dragon sent up a signal, and I would recognize that blast anywhere. You were already unconscious, and the dragon was nearly so, so hauling you aboard was a bit difficult, as was getting you into this cave.”

“Why,” is all Hiccup can say. He can’t even make it into a question. “Why would you save us, when all you had to do was nothing. You could have won.” Again he coughs, and again Viggo holds the cup so he can drink. Hiccup pointedly ignores the hand still resting between his shoulders.

“I don’t want you dead, Hiccup,” Viggo says when the fit has passed. “Haven’t you realized that by now?”

“Then what _do_ you want?” Hiccup asks before he thinks better of it. “Wait, no, don’t answer that, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I won’t apologize for what I feel for you.”

“And I won’t apologize for being disgusted by it, how’s that?”

“Fair enough,” Viggo admits. He’s probably smirking – he sounds like he’s smirking. “But I will never force myself on you; on that, you have my word.”

“Wow, how kind,” Hiccup mutters. “I’m so grateful.” 

“I will insist, however,” Viggo goes on, uncaring if not unhearing, “that you stay here until the storm dies down. You’re not well, and to go back into it now would be nothing short of suicide. For both of you,” he adds pointedly.

“Yeah? And how are you gonna keep me here?”

Viggo pulls away, then, and goes back around to his side of the fire, where he pulls something out of a satchel. It’s his foot. Hiccup’s mouth goes dry, but Viggo simply sets it down on the ground. “I won’t give it to you, but neither will I keep it from you. Retrieve it at any time, and I won’t stop you.” 

Hiccup eyes him suspiciously. It’s not all that far, even if he has to hop, so there must be something else. “What’s the catch?”

“Catch? This isn’t a trick – merely a test. If you’re insistent on flying, you need to at least be able to stand.”

“Funny,” Hiccup says flatly. 

“It isn’t meant to be. If you’re unable to perform this simple feat, then you’re in no condition to be heading out on your own.”

“I wouldn’t be on my own.”

“No, but your dragon is hardly in the best of shape at the moment, either. Would you risk his life as well as your own?”

Hiccup glares, knowing he’s been beaten. He’s been known to do stupid, crazy things before, but even his most self-destructive impulses won’t drag Toothless down with him. Well, not _intentionally._ Today’s already been bad enough.

“Let your clothes finish drying,” Viggo says softly. “Get warm, get some more rest. I have some basic provisions, if you’re hungry, and water certainly isn’t a scarcity, but for now I think sleep is what you need the most. I’ll keep my distance, and I’ll give you this—” he draws the ornate dagger from its sheath at his back “—in case you feel you must protect yourself from me.” 

He leans over to place it on the ground nearer to Hiccup, within arms’ reach but not so close that he has to come around the fire again, then retreats back to the cave wall. Hiccup grabs it and pulls it close, metal scraping along the stone. He hopes it gets scratched. Viggo pointedly turns his back again, and Hiccup strips off the tunic as quickly as he can. He does his best to lay it out flat on the floor between him and the fire, along with his pants and sock and leather vest, but soon the need for warmth wins out and he calls it close enough in favor of sinking back into the blankets.

He keeps his eyes on Viggo and his hand on the hilt of the dagger until the flickering of the flames lulls him into sleep.

ー・ー

When he wakes up, it’s light out. The fire has burned down to embers, and daylight is pouring in through the cave mouth. There’s no sign of Viggo. He sits up a little too fast, but ignores the rushing in his head the best he can and looks around. Toothless is curled up where he last saw him, whuffling gently in his sleep, so that’s one less thing to worry about. His clothes are folded neatly by the coals of the fire, and next to them are a waterskin, two small leather pouches, and his foot. He puts a hand on his tunic, finds it dry, and pulls it on. The fabric is slightly warm against his skin, and he can’t hold back a sigh of contentment. He struggles into his pants – difficult while sitting down, but he doesn’t want to leave the nest of blankets entirely – tugs on his sock, and briefly massages his stump before turning to the pouches.

One has a few pieces of hard bread, the other some dried meat. He inspects both carefully, but can’t detect anything out of the ordinary in either appearance or smell, so takes a small bite of each. If there aren’t any obvious effects, he’ll wake up Toothless and give him the meat, and hope that it’s enough to get them out of there. For now, though, he’s content to let him rest.

While he waits, he might as well assess the situation: the storm’s obviously passed, and the sky’s probably clear, but there’s the small matter of figuring out where exactly they _are._ Standing up is tricky, even once his foot is on and secured, and he hates to admit it but Viggo had been right - if he’s this stiff and tired today, after several hours of sleep, he wouldn’t have stood a chance of getting anywhere last night. He makes it to the cave entrance on unsteady legs and is rewarded with sunlight and a gentle sea breeze. The weather certainly is fickle this time of year. Or, well, all times of the year, but this is clearly no exception. Once he can figure out what island cluster they’re in, getting back to the Edge should be pretty easy.

After digging out his travel maps (wrapped safely in oilcloth and leather, they’re just a little damp around the edges) and roughly estimating their location, he’s not feeling anything but hungry, so the food is probably fine. After all, Viggo could have done so much worse to him at any point… He shivers, then firmly tucks the thought away. Whatever could have happened didn’t, and all that matters right now is that he and Toothless can get home. Preferably without being followed or tracked, but Hiccup hadn’t seen any sign of Viggo’s alleged ship, so as long as they can stay above the thin clouds and out of the shipping lanes, they should be all right.

Toothless wakes up easily but grumpily, complaining about the _everything_ that had happened but accepting the meat as repayment. Partial repayment, at least, since it’s not exactly a fresh and juicy bass, but that’s no less than Hiccup deserves. He _had_ been reckless and boneheaded and almost gotten them killed, so really, Toothless can give him all the attitude he wants.

Once Toothless stretches and wiggles himself limber, Hiccup packs up the rest of his things, checks the tail rig carefully for any damage or tampering, and saddles him up. He has to stop a few times to cough, which isn’t the most fun thing, but it doesn’t seem worse than earlier so it’s probably fine. Toothless, thank the gods, seems fine, and forgiving enough to chirp in concern every now and then. Yeah, they’ll be all right.

ー・ー

The flight back is short and uneventful, even after a few double-backs and false trails to throw off any unseen watchers. They’re both too worn out for any of their usual tricks and games; by the time they land, Hiccup just wants to sleep for a day or two, and Toothless is radiating much the same intention.

Naturally, their luck isn’t that good.

“Hiccup Haddock!” bellows Snotlout as soon as they hit the landing deck, storming out of the clubhouse and actually, honest-to-gods pointing a finger at him. “You are in _big_ trouble! _Where_ have you been and _what_ have you been doing?”

“Nice to see you, too, Snotlout,” Hiccup mutters as he climbs down and starts undoing the girth straps. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Out looking for _you,_ you muttonhead! Why in Thor’s name would you go off like that without telling anyone? You _hate_ it when we do that!”

“Yeah, well, and now you know why. So…” He turns around, saddle in arms, and nearly knocks Snotlout off his feet with it. “Send a Terror after them, tell them I’m fine, and they can yell at me when they get back.”

“Oh, you know they will. In the meantime—” Snotlout snatches the saddle out of his grasp “— _I_ will get Toothless to the stables, and _you_ will get your scrawny butt to your hut – ooh, nice rhyme – because, and believe me when I say this, you look like complete yak dung.”

“...thank you?”

Snotlout huffs. “Okay, T, let’s go. Bedtime for stubborn dragons and idiotic vikings.”

Toothless rumbles, butts his head against Hiccup’s back, and trails after Snotlout.

Despite a certain level of territorialism, everyone knows how to look after everyone else’s dragons – it’s a matter of common sense, really – and Snotlout actually is very good at it. Hiccup sighs. At least he probably has an hour or so before the others get back and start haranguing him; might as well get some sleep.

And come up with an explanation for why he has Viggo Grimborn’s knife.

**Author's Note:**

> as a reminder, homophobia does not exist in any of my writing. hiccup is repulsed by viggo’s attraction to him not because he’s a man, but because their morals are deeply unaligned and viggo has caused a lot of harm to people hiccup cares about. he’s also pretty wigged out because he’s in a very vulnerable position and knows that he wouldn’t be able to defend himself against an assault, and because viggo has a history of being psychologically manipulative even when he’s not being violent. 
> 
> thanks for reading, and please feel free to leave any feedback you'd like to!


End file.
